


I can serenade and gently play on your heart strings

by pseudofoucault333



Series: ROK Standalones [12]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alcohol, Champagne, Cigarettes, Courtship, First Kiss, Flirting, French Kissing, M/M, OCD!Arthur, Spoilers, Suit Porn, constantly rejected!Eames, riduculously patient!Eames, unimpressed!Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-03
Updated: 2012-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-11 09:16:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudofoucault333/pseuds/pseudofoucault333
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames has never really had to make the effort to be with anyone before...but now he's having to make the effort to get the one man he really wants. Will Arthur give into his charms or Eames be left more than a little crushed?</p><p>unbeta'd.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I can serenade and gently play on your heart strings

**Title:** I can serenade and gently play on your heart strings  
**Author:** **lovin_torture**  
**Fandom:** Inception  
**Pairing:** Arthur/Eames  
**Summary:** Eames has never really had to make the effort to be with anyone before...but now he's having to make the effort to get the one man he really wants. Will Arthur give into his charms or Eames be left more than a little crushed?  
**Prompt:** courting,"I can taste the sparks on your tongue."  
**Disclaimer:** The whole concept of Inception © the awesomeness that is Christopher Nolan, don’t sue because the contents of my bank account is only worth about a third of the amount in European currency and next to nothing in American dollars. Plot mostly based on fiction…i.e not real….but a girl can wish <3 Title © awesomeness of Queen [RIP Freddy Mercury]

Usually when it came to getting someone’s attention I didn’t have to put in a lot of work to the extent that I looked overly desperate or eager, but that was I suppose because in my own way I made myself obvious in my intentions. I’d wink, I’d flirt, it was just in my nature I suppose to ask that way but with _him_ it was a different story. I had to _make_ the effort or else he wouldn’t know if I was being serious or just messing around.

So it was no surprise that I was out of practise. But at least with the job that Cobb talked me into it gave me the chance to try my techniques and see how long it would take before Arthur clicked. I didn’t tell the others not really wanting to become the baseline for a bet which would mean more fuel to add to the fire, not to mention frustration on my part when it went wrong. However it wasn’t easy. My attempts to flirt with him in group conversation about the Fischer job didn’t go down too well. He’d either roll his eyes, ignore me or make a snappy comeback. But from the looks the others exchanged they knew what was going on, the only oblivious one being the target.

So I tried even harder without reaching the point of desperation, trying to ask him out to the bar down the street after meetings but got a series of replies from "thanks but no thanks" to "can’t you go one night without drinking?" if he was in a bad mood. I’d end up returning to my hotel room alone with a bottle of some extra strong alcohol, downing it like water as I tried to think of my next move.

Needless to say it carried on like that for the vast majority of the time as I worked at Fischer’s office to help perfect my forgery of Browning when the time came but after I left I’d still have to check in with Arthur and Cobb, mostly updates on the health of Fischer Senior. Arthur barely looked at me when it was his turn to get my information, just made notes before turning back to his whiteboard as though trying to figure out how those parts could be important to the overall picture.

Normally I was a patient man, it took a lot for me to be on edge, but I had to admit that this was pushing my limits. So I decided to try a different approach when it came to asking him out. I left a post-it on his whiteboard, over the picture of Browning, telling him to meet me at the bar that night if he wanted his daily report. I went to Fischer’s office that day as normal and played my part to a tee, eager to get it over with and meet Arthur. Yet when the time came and I was sat at the bar downing a pint by myself, the negative part of me which rarely appears, didn’t seem to think Arthur would turn up.

Half an hour and another pint later he appeared, looking around distastefully as he approaching me. Something on his face seemed to shift when he spotted me still in my suit from the office. Normally at the warehouse I’d have changed before appearing since it wasn’t really my style let alone within my comfort zone. But it was part of the effort I was willing to make and it seemed to be working.

“Eames, why are we meeting here?” his voice was clipped as he slid into the stool beside me, setting his brief case on the stool on the other side of him like he didn’t trust that the floor was clean enough.

“I’ll get to that. First things first, what’ll it be?” I asked, downing the last of my pint.

“I can get my own drink.”

“Just humour me darlin’.”

He said some long French name I’d never heard of before, probably an overly expensive wine or liquor that cost an arm and a leg per glass but if it got him to stay I’d gladly pay the price and then some.

I hailed a bartender and put in our orders before turning to look at Arthur who had his notebook out and pen already between his fingers as though waiting for that day’s report so he could leave before our drinks got here.

“Hey before I get into that what’s what at Fischer’s office can we talk first?”

He frowned but slid the pen into the binding of the notebook the grace that he always seemed to pull off so easily.

“I suppose, what’s on your mind?”

“Would it surprise you if I said my train of thought was fixated on you lately?”

“Depending on the context, possibly.”

“Look Arthur despite what you may think of me....”

“...a shameless flirt with no consideration for anyone but yourself...”

“...I do actually like you.”

He opened his mouth to reply but our drinks arrived with perfect timing leaving him to grab his glass and down a mouthful. I flashed the bartender a smile as I paid before turning back to Arthur.

“Well I like you too but not enough to let myself, intoxicated or otherwise, be talked into your bed.”

I sighed behind my pint and knew that was with everything involving Arthur it wouldn’t be easy to convince him that what I was saying was from the heart not just a pick up line.

“That isn’t what I want from you Arthur.”

“Could have fooled me.”

I downed a few mouthfuls of my pint as I leaned my elbows on the bar surface. “You really think you have me all figured out don’t you?”

“Not think, know. You forget I’ve seen you in action both professionally and personally a number of times and so for you to tell me you ‘like me’ like some shy teenage girl isn’t going to change my perception.”

“Ok, then what will?”

He downed some more of his drink and tilted his head in thought.

“Let me do things in my own time _if I want to_ Eames. Telling me something and expecting your charisma to make me weak in the knees is so narcissistic.”

I took a sip of my beer as he watched me for my reaction, like he was sure I didn’t have the will power to actually do it. Sure it would take some effort on my part but it was nothing I objected to.

“If that’s what it takes then I’m happy to wait.”

He downed the remainder of his drink and got up, swiftly putting the pen and pad away in the briefcase before sliding off his stool.

“Hey, what about my report?”

“It can wait until tomorrow. Just come to see me before speaking to Cobb.”

I nodded and watched him take one last glance me before leaving the bar. I sat there feeling confused, that what I had thought would happen had been anything but what I just experienced.

xo

Over the last few finishing touches of the plan I remained silent and patient as Arthur had wanted but it wasn’t easy to know that he was stringing me along and that it could all be for nothing in the end. But the night before our flight to LA Cobb persuaded all of us to go out for a well deserved drink, a way for us all to relax from the stress which was inevitably going to plague us the next day until we were on the job. Everyone, me included, was definitely open to the suggestion and we piled into the booth as Saito set up a tab and ordered the first round.

I sat between Ariadne and Arthur, the latter of whom had his gaze locked on a file in front of him as though he felt the need to triple check everything for possible opportunities that could result in disaster. 

“Lighten up Arthur.” Cobb grinned, closing the file and sliding it off the table towards him before Arthur could object.

“Fine...but don’t blame me if something goes wrong.” Arthur sighed, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms, reminding me of Cobb’s kid James when he hadn’t got something he wanted.

Saito appeared with our drinks as he sat down in the only spare seat beside Cobb. We talked and drank casually, the atmosphere definitely filled with less stress, but I could feel Arthur shifting slightly on my right as though either something was bothering him, such as his obsessive urge to keep checking everything, or he was remembering a previous conversation that was bothering him. From the way he was looking at me it was definitely the latter.

“Arthur, I feel like a smoke, want to join me?”

I felt the others at the table all stop talking and look at me as though wondering why all of sudden I thought Arthur smoked. He seemed to be thinking exactly the same way by his response.

“I don’t smoke...” he said, tilting his head at me like he knew I knew this and he couldn’t understand why I would dare to ask.

“I know that, I could just use the company that’s all. Please?” I said, arching my body against the back of the booth to slide a cigarette and lighter from my jeans pocket.

He sighed like it was the biggest burden in the world being associated with me as he picked up his glass and slid out the booth so I could get out too, my cigarette between my lips already and my free hand picking up my drink of the night, some good old Guinness.

I led the way out to the back entrance, a small French attempt at a beer garden which looked more like someone had had some concrete they needed to use up. There were only a few benches and a couple of tables at standing height with ashtrays dotted around. 

I approached a table to put my glass down before cupping my free hand around the top of my lighter to prevent the wind from blowing out the flame before lighting the cigarette. I blew the lighter flame out before throwing the lighter on the table and leaning against the table for balance.

“Why did you ask me out here exactly?” Arthur asked, eyebrow rose as he put his own glass down beside mine.

“You were looking kind of stir crazy just sitting there with nothing to do, I thought you could do with the excuse of some air.” 

“I could but not air filled with foul cigarette smoke.” he sighed, leaning against the wall behind us.

“Sorry, next time I won’t bother.” I shrugged, removing the cigarette between thumb and index finger to blow the smoke out in front of me.

Silence surrounded us, only just kept at bay by the sound of the others still inside the bar. The whole time I smoked, I kept my gaze on Arthur out the corner of my eye, whose gaze remained on the contents of his glass which was gradually disappearing to the bottom. Yet as he finally finished the contents I couldn’t stop myself from leaving the remainder of the cigarette in the grove on the ashtray’s edge and approaching him. 

He seemed uncertain at my intentions as I brushed my lips softly against his. He put up a bit of a fight, as was obviously in his nature by the way his body stiffened against my own, but once I tilted my head to the left it seemed like the key to the puzzle. His mouth opened willingly and his eyes closed as our tongues grazed together.

The combination of cigarette smoke and whatever bubbly concoction he had been drinking causing a glorious sensation inside my mouth. Yet as we pulled away, the depths of his eyes lit up with a slight drunken glow. It was that seemed to make the most romantic yet random lines come from between my lips.

“I can taste the sparks on your tongue.”

A smile appeared on his face, still twinged with uncertainty.

“That would be the champagne I was drinking.”

“Maybe you should drink it more often when I’m around.”

“I’ll take that suggestion into consideration but I’m sure it can be arranged.” He murmured, pulling me by the shirt into another kiss, one i knew for a fact wasn’t fuelled by alcohol but something else, the something I had been waiting for since I first met him.

  
_Fin._  



End file.
